


Choices

by SourSugarCube



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 14:30:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16745770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SourSugarCube/pseuds/SourSugarCube
Summary: Being trapped by a Cyclopes for multiple days had drained Sypha's powers, and Trevor can't convince the Speakers to leave the city. Full of frustration and haunted by the memory's of his family's murder, Trevor Kidnaps Sypha in a desperate attempt to save her from the mobs fury.





	Choices

“You should go now, before they come.” Sypha tells Trevor. She doesn’t say it victoriously, or like a warrior about to enter battle, but with a sad look at her hands, hands that the cyclops had temporarily drained, that she can now barely use to make sparks. This is a suicide attempt, a desperate plea to knock since into the people by using their own deaths as a hammer to a nail.

Trevor growls, frustration burning in his blood so hot that he storms out the weak wooden door. Slamming it so that a rusted hinge falls to the dirt.

The Belmont stomps around the property like a child he once was. Pulling at his hair, cursing the church for putting this upon them, cursing the good elder for allowing it, and cursing Sypha for her blind faith in the man. Slumping down against the far wall of the beaten up structure, Trevor bites his forearm and screams into it. They haven’t seen what he’s seen. They’ve never burned the skin from their hands digging through still burning coals searching for their sisters and brothers. They’ve never prayed to a god who hated them, to find just one niece or one nephew still breathing. His family was torn away from him when he would have given anything to save them. Yet here these people were, expecting death and not even flinching once to pull each other out of the way.

He wanted to vomit.

“I should just leave, it’s what they fucking want,” Trevor argued with himself. “To stand up and be responsible for other people’s genocide.”

The sound of someone cracking the door open reached his ears, the wood shaking from someone trying to keep it balanced before it closed. Soft, footsteps of sandals leading away. Trevor crawled over to peak behind the wall to see Sypha bringing a small bucket of an abandoned well.

Sypha.

Goddamn it Sypha.

Sypha, who went looking for the sleeping warrior in hopes of saving everyone.

Sypha, who he’s known for less than a day, but who he’s already talked to like an old friend.

Sypha, who’s going to be dragged out, tortured, and killed in less then two hours.

“Goddamn it Sypha,” Trevor whispered, hands rubbing his face. “I’m not going to let you do this.”

Trevor picked himself up and followed her. He may be out of practice fighting, but stealth is an everyday skill.

She had just raised the bucket when he grabbed her from behind. Covering her mouth with one hand, and wrapping an arm around her waist. Caging her wrists in one hand and taking the buckets handle in his pointer finger to keep it from dropping.

Sypha shouted into his hand, biting down on a callused fingers, elbowing his stomach, and kicking at his knees. Bending her over to set the bucket on the lip of the well, he pinned her wrists to the stone, grabbed at the vampire killer, and spun her around to face him.

Fear, anger and confusion swarmed her expression. Her eyes were red, she’d been crying before coming outside, and he wouldn’t be surprised if his eyes were bloodshot as well.

“I’m sorry” was all Trevor could say, the only form of explanation he could give, before bringing the whips handle down on her head, in just the right spot using just enough pressure to knock the Speaker out cold.

Time was limited, so he needed to act fast. Picking Sypha up like a bride on her wedding he dodged for cover. He needed to get them both out of the city without being noticed, and her speaker robe was too noticeable. Apologizing profusely to the unconscious women, Trevor pulled her robe off and rolled it up before tucking the thick bundle under the back of his tunic, the thickness of his fur cape hopefully should hide the bulkiness of the bundle.

Untying the extra bit of red fabric from his belt, which he uses to keep off unforgiving rain, he wraps the length of cloth around her shoulders and pulls at it to form a makeshift hood. Holding her back to his chest and hiding what he can of her with the tails of his cape, Trevor speed down back alleys looking for a way out of the city.

Remembering a stable Trevor had passed by when he was abducted by the priests, he heads for it. Peering inside, its clear that no-ones home. Though, given that all the torches and pitch forks are gone, he can take a guess as to where they were.

The stables were well populated by confused, but calm horses, and he laid Sypha on a pile of hay to look for a cart of some kind to carry them both. While he could hall ass out of the city on just a horse while balancing Sypha’s body against his own, it would definitely catch too much attention, with her being passed out and all.

It seemed that the stable owners had a group of merchants staying with them, a lineup of covered wagons sat just out of public view, one of which was filled with expensive pottery, crystal and wines. All that he took great pleasure smashing over the side, grinning when they shattered. Though, Trevor may have left a case or three of wine on board.

By the time he had hitched up two gentle mares to the wagon, the towns peoples screams of anger from the mob's echoed at full volume down the cobblestone alleys, calling for blood and injustice.

Knifes of guilt buried into Trevor’s heart, he wanted to go back, to kill each and every one of those bastards that put this upon themselves. But he kept his mind on the task at hand, getting Sypha out of the city alive.

She was still asleep when he came back, though her face was uneasy, like one of Dracula’s demons had wormed itself into her mind.

Gently, Trevor carried her over the wooden railing to lay her down on the wagons floor. As a precaution, he grabs a length of rope normally used to tie up horses, and wrapped it around her arms and legs in fear of her waking up before they made it out of the gates, and getting noticed. He decided to leave her mouth alone for now, worried about accidentally suffocating her by tying a gag to tight. Though he does cover her body with many mismatched and colored cloths he found wrapped around the pottery and wines to keep them from breaking.

It would have normally taken fifteen minutes to finally make it out of the city walls at a steady pace. However, he was stopped multiple times by different men asking why a man of his size isnt "In on the hunt" or asking if hes willing to sell one of his horses for the hunt. When he finally did make it out the city limits, he booked it. Ready to be out of there as soon as possible and into tree line, only taking about three minutes tops to reach where he had spent the last night in a drunken haze relatively safe from the demons.

He kept riding, looking back at the portion of Sypha’s face visible from under her covering every minute or so. Only once though, did he look back on the city, because when he did, fire was reaching over the walls, easy to see in the dark, with the flying bastards swarming over top, attacking the people inside. The screams so horrible, he could hear them even from so far away.

Snow had begun to fall, and Trevor knew that he was going to need to stop soon and get ready to weather out the night. The tiny bit of Sypha's face showing was already red from the cold, and now that they were away from the mob's, it was safe enough to give her back the thick Speakers robe, which will definitely help warm her up.

He held no doubt that the speakers were dead by now, or that Sypha’s grandfather was the first to be killed. Killed, not knowing where his granddaughter was.

Trevor sighed, wondering if his parents were thinking that same thing when they were attacked. If they worried about him, or if they were relieved that he wasn’t there, hoping that he was somewhere maybe safe. Not knowing that he was just outside, tied up and forced to watch it all happen.

Sypha moaned, shifting under the layers. The cold had set it, and the half-hazard way he had pilled on the cloths were probably making for poor insulation. She probably would wake up any second, with a splitting headache and more then one bone to pick with him. Trevor worried that If she screamed, their position would be given away to the demons and he alone may not be able to fight them all off.

Slowly, he led the horses to a spot heavily covered by trees and foliage, he tied the reins in place, and climbed into the back, carefully tying one of the cloths around her mouth before rearranging the other makeshift blankets in a hopefully warmer way.

Sypha’s eyes opened slowly, groggily. Clearly not knowing where she was but when her eyes settled on Trevor’s there was a wave of recondition and relief. However only a few seconds later, confusion set it. She tongued at the fabric covering her mouth. Realization, remembering what had happened only a few hours before. She tugged at the ropes still binding her, and then her eyes emulated pure anger.

**Author's Note:**

> I Own Nothing. Please Read and Review!


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